


Episode Three

by citrusyghost



Series: The Warm In-between [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 96 line - Freeform, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Love, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Time Skips, side soonhoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17951801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusyghost/pseuds/citrusyghost
Summary: “You know, when you kind of envision the perfect scenario in your head and then become immobile when it doesn’t come to pass?”





	Episode Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is a love letter to Wonwoo and Junhui - both of whom have given me so much joy.

The sound of keys rattling has Wonwoo pulling his gaze from the television to the front door. He digs his hand into the bowl of microwaved popcorn on his lap and brings the snack to his mouth. It’s kind of stale tasting; unevenly salted. It also squeaks like plastic when he chews but Wonwoo doesn’t mind.

Door half open, the corridor light spills into the unlit apartment. A shadowy figure enters carefully only to trip over slippers Wonwoo had carelessly strewn across the floor. Wonwoo scrunches his face in a silent apology.

“Oh sh—“ a voice gasps.

 _Smack!_ A tiny groan.

Paper bag rustling, some floor shuffling. A string of mumbling and then silence.

Wonwoo leans his head against the sofa. “You’re back.” He smiles.

“Dude, why’re you sitting in the dark?” Soonyoung groans, rubbing his side where he’d fallen. Wonwoo can’t yet see Soonyoung’s face. It’s kind of, well, dark.

“Turn on some lights.” His best friend grumbles, feeling for the switches by the side.

He flips them on and Wonwoo throws his hands up to shield his eyes. Reflex.

“You know your prescription is getting worse.” Soonyoung points an accusing finger at him before tutting exaggeratedly. “When’s the last time you had your eyes checked? Watching tv in the dark is the _worst_.”

Wonwoo does a little up and down motion with his shoulders. “We watch movies in the dark.” He shoots back humorously. Hands on his hips, Soonyoung shakes his head at him.

They stare at each other in a playful challenge before Soonyoung gives and he harrumphs. Wonwoo chuckles as Soonyoung kicks his bags to the side and shrugs off his hoodie.

“How was it?” The words tumble from Wonwoo’s lips before he can stop himself.

“It was _insane!”_ Soonyoung throws his hands above his head as he exclaims — enormous grin on his face. His voice echoes through the outside corridor and Wonwoo winces. It’s 1am and they’re being disruptive.

Guilty, Soonyoung quickly closes their front door.

“Sounds like quite the trip.” Wonwoo turns his head back to the television. 

“The food was _god_ , the food was _so_ good. Occasionally spicy, obviously. It was really me eating 20% and sweating 80%. But I was _not_ prepared for the amount of walking involved. I mean I know he said that we’d go on a walking tour and really I should have guessed but damn, my legs have been aching non-stop. I don’t know how I’m going to teach tomorrow.”

“Hoon agreed to this?”

Soonyoung makes an entertained noise. “We had to drag him and bribe him with food.”

“Sounds about right.” Wonwoo notes with a smile on his face. He pictures Jihoon refusing to leave the hotel room only to be spurred to action when promised food. It’s happened many times before. You’d be surprised at what that guy would do for food. 

“He was not having it at the Great Wall, I can tell you that.” Soonyoung plops himself down on the couch next to Wonwoo. The cushion dips from his weight. “Oh my god, zombies.”

“Zombies.” Wonwoo confirms, offering Soonyoung some popcorn. “I’m surprised he went at all. I’m kind of proud actually.”

“Same.” Soonyoung agrees as they fall into a comfortable silence. On screen, they’re reaching the crux of the episode. The protagonist is about to find out whether the King is dead or alive. It’s riveting. Wonwoo’s hand, full of popcorn, is frozen by his mouth. For someone just three minutes in, Soonyoung looks as tense as someone who’s watched all four episodes back-to-back like Wonwoo has.

Yeah, he’s been on the sofa for a _while._

Soonyoung’s been gone two weeks. It’s just been Wonwoo here in their apartment. He hasn’t gone out very much. He’s been writing.

Well, trying to.

Now he’s doing research. Binging this gripping historical zombie drama is research. You want to call his bluff but hey, don’t you know you need to digest stories to write one?

Anyway, Wonwoo was convinced that when Soonyoung left, the quiet of their apartment would be wonderfully conducive for writing. He was wrong.

Turns out it was a little too quiet. It was so quiet it was as if his words were too shy to come to him. Wonwoo spent a lot of the time staring blankly at his script.

Past the first week, he just stopped trying altogether.

There is little point trying to force something that doesn’t want to happen.

Instead of writing, he looked up Soonyoung’s social media every day to catch glimpses of what his best friends were up to. Which part of China they were exploring, what foods they were eating, that sort of thing. It was uncharacteristic of him. He didn’t care about things like this.

Also, it was really unbecoming of someone who refused to go in the first place.

The first week passed quietly. Beginning of the second week, Mingyu came over insisting on making him some _proper home cooked food._ How his precious junior had figured that Wonwoo’s been living on microwaved dinners is beyond him. Actually, Wonwoo may have been like this since university so it’s not exactly news.  

Still, he wanted to know.

“You have these… Uh… moments.” Mingyu made a vague hand movement when Wonwoo asked.

“What?” 

Mingyu laughs nervously. He makes a face as if to wonder if he should go on and Wonwoo waves his hands to say ‘ _continue.’_ “You know, when you kind of envision the perfect scenario in your head and then become immobile when it doesn’t come to pass?”

Wonwoo raises both his eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

“I just figured you’d think, ah! What a perfect time to write with Soonyoung hyung gone and all. And then maybe realise it was … not? I was just making sure.” Mingyu babbles on and when he finishes, he’s got a hand in the air where it last emphasised a point.

Senior stares at junior and then Wonwoo sighs.  

“Did Soonyoung send you?”

“Maybe.” Mingyu confesses.

Anyway, yes Wonwoo may have not been productive with writing. He may have bummed around a bit. _Okay_ , a lot. May have thrown his phone into his underwear drawer on silent after seeing one too many photos from the trip. May have not had what one would consider a balanced diet but the point is, Soonyoung is back.

Now everything can just slip back to normalcy. He’ll start writing first thing tomorrow morning after he drives to Mingyu’s to return the Tupperware boxes he so graciously brought. Wonwoo was careful to wash them all twice.

“Jihoon was saying that if you went, the both of you could have gone and done something relaxing.” Soonyoung stuffs some popcorn into his mouth, eyes on the telly. The nerve wrecking part is over. The King is, indeed, dead. “But what is more relaxing than standing at the top of a mountain breathing in fresh air and _living_?”

“Staying in bed is relaxing.” Wonwoo offers.

“Ugh,” Soonyoung swats at him before looking around the house with judgement, “I think you’ve stayed in bed enough.”

“Rude.” Wonwoo waves a dismissive hand. “Most of the mess is yours.”

Soonyoung laughs. A freeing, full body chuckle that quietens into a small huff.

Then silence — just the television in the background.

Wait shit. The King _isn’t_ dead. The man is a zombie! Dude what! Okay wait, technically he is dead. Ok he’s undead.

Damn.

Wonwoo is reaching his hand into the bowl of popcorn, completely engrossed, when Soonyoung says, “he misses you, you know.”

The voices from the television plateau to a single note. Zombies rushing forward to gnaw at human flesh. Fighting all round. It’s a mess. Blood and screaming. Ringing in Wonwoo’s ears.

“It's been years.”  

 

* * *

“Everyone, Wen Junhui. Wen Junhui, everyone.”

Wonwoo looks up from where he’s been reading the menu to see Soonyoung gesturing to an unfamiliar face standing beside him.

The first thing Wonwoo notes about Wen Junhui is that he exceptionally tall. The second is, Wen Junhui looks like a character out of this manhwa Wonwoo’s been reading. Something about the perfect ash brown hair, big expressive eyes and cupid’s bow on his lips.

Ah. The almost protagonist type. The character that has a slow-motion scene and cliché Sakura petals falling in the background. Bonus points if ‘Fading Starlight’ plays whilst the character is introduced for the very first time. A classic.

Wen Junhui would be a significant addition to any story but he remains an almost protagonist because he’s not quite so relatable. Most protagonists start out as underdogs because a part of us always feels like one. Everyone loves rooting for an underdog. Someone who looks like Wen Junhui doesn’t exactly make the cut for an underdog. Not even five minutes in and Wonwoo already knows. He’s too perfect. 

“He’s the exchange student I told you guys about.” Soonyoung explains, throwing a friendly arm over Junhui’s shoulder. “You guys should see him _dance."_  

See? Perfect. Plot catalyst material. An exchange student here to move things right along with his good looks and enviable talents. Wonwoo knows how this story goes. The poor main character is going to unknowingly stumble in on him _dancing._ Maybe in episode two, after things have been set up. And then someone is going to develop a crush.

Wonwoo leans back in his chair and smiles to himself, amused. He turns towards Junhui and readies himself for a charming introduction. Something with unashamed confidence and an air of poise. Everything the protagonist will find in themselves, lacking.

Go on then, Wen Junhui.

Show us.

“Half the course, no!” Soonyoung shakes his head quickly before deadpanning, “ _everyone_ is in love with him.”

And then something completely unexpected happens. Well, not _completely_ unexpected. The correct order of things is that Wen Junhui will politely and humbly tell them that Soonyoung is exaggerating and that it’s his first week here and he literally has no friends. Then everyone will nod and coo at him and try and befriend him. You know? You know.

But things don’t happen in that way.

Contrary to what Wonwoo was expecting, Wen Junhui stiffens up.

That’s a kind of humble. His face begins to flush a deep embarrassed red and he says absolutely nothing. He just stares at Wonwoo and Jihoon awkwardly as Soonyoung slaps his back and compliments him at least six more times.

Huh.

What a complete disconnect.

Wonwoo was wrong. He’s not the suave, charming princely side-character that everyone falls in love with. He’s the… awkward person that doesn’t know he’s hot. Interesting.

Way more interesting than what Wonwoo previously thought. There are only so many perfect pretty boys a man can stand to read about. Good on you, Wen Junhui.

“Hey.” Jihoon lifts his wrist in greeting. “Jihoon.”

Junhui turns to him immediately and bows. “Hi.”

Wonwoo and Jihoon exchange a quick look before its Wonwoo’s turn to introduce himself. The other three turn to him expectantly. Junhui’s big, owlish eyes are looking at him so Wonwoo dips his head.

“Wonwoo.” He says.

Junhui smiles; a shockingly handsome pull at either corners of his mouth. It takes Wonwoo a little aback. Damn. He didn’t know God still made them like this. Wonwoo is joking but still, he doesn’t have much time to think about it because Soonyoung is pushing Junhui into the seat next to him. “Sit, sit.”

Vanilla and cinnamon shy their way into Wonwoo’s senses and he turns to stare at the source. _Really_. Vanilla and cinnamon. This guy is ticking all the boxes.

“Music major. Liberal arts major. Dance major. Dance major.” Soonyoung begins to introduce, pointing his finger at Jihoon, Wonwoo, himself and Junhui respectively. “We’re all the same age so let’s get along!”

Junhui leans forward, curious look in his eye. “What does age have to do with getting along?”

Wonwoo purses his lips to hide his smile.

Opposite him, Jihoon develops a slight brow furrow. He must be deciding on how to best explain this. A minute in and Jihoon tells Junhui, as factually as he can, about the unsaid age hierarchy system. Soonyoung nods periodically and Wonwoo picks his menus back up.

There’s an easy atmosphere between the four of them. It’s unexpectedly nice despite the fresh face. This is kind of a weekly thing between Soonyoung, Jihoon and Wonwoo. Every Tuesday they meet at this restaurant just slightly out of campus and chill. They’ve been at it since first year and they don’t usually bring plus ones.

Soonyoung texted them early afternoon about this exchange student that he’s been assigned to buddy with and asked if he could join. Of course they weren’t going to say no.

It’s been a whole five minutes and Wonwoo still can’t decide between clear beef soup or spicy tofu. Maybe kimchi pancake?

“Hey, liberal arts major.”

Wonwoo snorts. He turns to look at Junhui, entertained.

“Yes, dance major.”

“This menu is wild and I can’t read it.”

Wonwoo blinks at Junhui. The guy’s eyebrows are drawn down in earnest innocence. After a moment where neither of them say anything, Wonwoo puts his arm on the back of his chair and quirks an eyebrow.

“You speak perfect Korean but you can’t read?”

No hesitation. Junhui leans slightly forward. “You think my Korean is perfect?”

Wonwoo catches himself. That was ignorant of him. It’s not polite to just assume things of people. He chides himself and opens his mouth to reassure Junhui. To tell him that he sounds just like a local _but —_

A cheeky grin tugs at Junhui’s lips. He leans even closer to Wonwoo; vanilla and cinnamon, and raises his eyebrows in an audaciously smug manner.

Wonwoo almost coughs in his face.

“Yes, actually.” He’ll humour him. “It’s a shame you’re illiterate.”

Junhui sighs immediately. His handsome features scrunch up before they loosen in defeat. “God would have made the perfect man otherwise.”

Wonwoo cannot stop the way his eyes widen a fraction. Okay kids, he was very wrong. Wen Junhui is hot and he knows it. He’s _that_ character that you hate that you love. That makes him dangerous. Wonwoo laughs. It’s more of a huff of disbelief before he looks at Junhui fully.

Something clever is at the tip of his tongue but then — he’s biting it back in because Junhui cringing at himself and hiding his hands behind his face. His ears burn a bright Apple red and he’s leaning away from Wonwoo in embarrassment.

The very sight stumps Wonwoo.

What _is_ this guy’s character?

Who is he?

Who _are_ you, Wen Junhui?  

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo is a foot out the door when he realises that his phone is still in his underwear drawer. It’s been there a few days now. The battery is probably dead. Does he really need to take a dead phone out with him?

A series of Soonyoung’s animated but panicked rambles flash in Wonwoo’s mind. Something about never ever being able to contact him and being afraid that he’s lying in a ditch somewhere. Exaggerated greatly but from a loving place of concern. Wonwoo sighs and turns back into the apartment.

Fine, he can charge it at Mingyu’s.  

Parking at Mingyu’s apartment has and always will be a complete nightmare. Considering how particular Mingyu is about well, everything, it’s a miracle he hasn’t yet moved out. There is no system whatsoever. It’s like as if someone gave a child a plot of land and a crayon and said, “ok honey where should the cars go?”

It takes about fifteen minutes for Wonwoo to park. And then he’s trying to balance the multiple Tupperwares and breakfast he bought in his hands as he makes for the apartment.

“I said you could take your time!” Mingyu exclaims when he sees Wonwoo standing at his front door. He says that but he looks really happy to see Wonwoo. The big smile on his face and flash of canines tells.

“I know. I’m here, taking the time.” Wonwoo shrugs. He pushes the brown paper bag he had in his hand towards Mingyu. “I got us breakfast.” He says as he lets himself into the apartment.  

Mingyu gasps, looking touched — hand to his chest. “hyung!”

“Is Jihoon in?”

“Hey.” A familiar voice calls from the kitchen. Wonwoo smiles at his best friend for a second before his eyes widen in shock. Catching his expression, Jihoon makes a face at him. 

“You tanned.” Wonwoo comments with amusement.

“This,” Jihoon sticks out his arm for emphasis. “Is not a tan.”

Wonwoo laughs as he unloads the Tupperware onto the counter. “True you’re still a whiter shade of pale but this has got to be the most colour I’ve seen on your face.”

“You didn’t climb a fucking mountain, you have no rights to speak.” Jihoon waves a hand dismissively but there’s a teasing glint in his eye. 

“I’m gona heat up the bagels!” Mingyu announces excitedly. He stands in front of Jihoon. “Hyung do you want one?”

Jihoon shakes his head and directs his attention back to Wonwoo — oblivious to the way Mingyu’s smile freezes on his face.

“I heard.” Wonwoo says, eyes still on his junior. Mingyu nods to himself and turns towards the oven.

“Oh?” Jihoon brings his coffee to his lips, “did you also hear how they nearly fucking died because they were goofing off by the edge of a goddamn cliff?”

The sudden drop in Wonwoo’s stomach surprises him. The edge of a _what_. He turns to Jihoon in mild horror. He’s over-reacting. Just less than 24 hours ago he was tucking Soonyoung into bed. They finished the zombie drama and even discussed plot points for season two. Soonyoung is 100% alive.

They’re fine.

 _He’s_ fine.

Wonwoo collects himself. “What?” He laughs.  

Jihoon nods back seriously. “I have pictures.”

“You took pictures of them as they were about to die?”

“You would’ve.”

“Fair.” Wonwoo chuckles. 

His laughs fades quickly when Jihoon pulls out his phone to show Wonwoo those exact pictures. Suddenly his hands feel clammy and his pulse starts racing. Wonwoo stares at the phone as Jihoon swipes through his gallery looking for the proof. The images flash by and all Wonwoo can see is that perfect head of ash brown hair.

“There.” Jihoon stops swiping.

Jihoon is right about them almost dying.

It is quite the picture.

The precarious angle Soonyoung is leaning off the cliff does things to Wonwoo’s anxiety. His best friend is laughing about his dire situation though. They both are. Soonyoung is clinging to him and the both of them have the biggest smiles on their faces.

Ash brown hair. Eyes filled with wonder. Cupid’s bow on his lips.

“He looks good.” Wonwoo murmurs.

Jihoon turns to look at his best friend and nods once.  

“Same as ever.”

 

* * *

 

Turns out, Wen Junhui is a horrifying hybrid of the charming, infuriatingly perfect character and the embarrassingly awkward, painfully shy character.

A mishmash of curious personality traits that Wonwoo never thought he’d see together. 

At first, Wonwoo was confused. He was convinced that the shyness of his grossly cheesy statement during their first meeting was a fluke. But you see, Wonwoo watched Junhui dance.

It’s Soonyoung’s fault if we’re all looking for someone to blame. Wonwoo never thought he’d ever experience an episode two. But there he was, standing in the audience whilst Junhui charmed about 200 people into believing that he is an actual angel, sent from heaven to move his ridiculously beautiful body and make people cry.

Wonwoo exaggerates but you get the point.

So that pretty much cemented Junhui’s infuriatingly perfect, confident character. But then, there was that one incident in the cafeteria where there weren’t enough seats and Jihoon told Junhui to go ask someone for a spare.

Wow that was a day. Wonwoo watched half incredulous, half entertained as Junhui crumbled into a pathetic pile of shy before he could even so much as _approach_ a table beside them. It was baffling. This must be why Soonyoung adopted him.

Do you see how Wonwoo just can’t seem to categorise Junhui? It is as incredible as it is frustrating. He’s the character you read for the first time and go, ‘wow, I’ve never read a character like this.’

“What are you always writing?” Junhui peers over Wonwoo’s shoulder at the notebook he has open and is scribbling in.

They’re sat on a grass patch by the University fountain looking like the beginning of that typical university photo people print on textbooks. Plus points because Junhui is an exchange student.

Jihoon is on his way and according to Junhui, Soonyoung finishes in an hour. They haven’t hung out this much since first year. Technically they see each other at least once a week but recently, it’s been almost daily. Something in their friendship group shifted when Wonwoo wasn’t paying attention.

He turns to Junhui and narrows his eyes. Must be this one.

“Character stuff.” Wonwoo replies easily.

“Can I see?” Junhui asks curiously.

Wonwoo shrugs. “Sure.” He holds his notebook out in offering and Junhui takes it excitedly.

“We’re going to have a problem since you can’t read.” He teases.

Junhui waves a graceful hand. “Character development is a thing.”

A surprised laugh bursts from Wonwoo’s lips and he finds himself caught in a strange moment where he feels a wave of positive emotion towards Junhui. Not that he doesn’t feel positive emotion of course. He just hasn’t felt this much of it in such a short moment and to such degree.

Junhui nods at him smugly before directing his attention to Wonwoo’s messy scribbles.

“Your hand writing is all over the place.” 

“It’s the hurdle you have to pass to become stronger, Junhui. I believe in you.” Wonwoo lets out a relaxed exhale as he lies himself down on the grass. He tucks his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

“Picks out all the cucumbers from her sandwich and hates cafeteria food but cannot be mo… b-bothered to bring her own. Has lunch outside… instead of in because she doesn’t want to see her ex with his new… fling. Wears sneakers where she used to wear heels.” Junhui reads slowly and then he says, “you sound like a stalker.”

Wonwoo snorts.

“Probably a psychology student. Perfect… eye… sight! Recently bought new shoes, probably to… impress someone but they’ve cut into his heels and now he limps when he walks. Okay you need to be locked up.” Junhui decides, throwing Wonwoo’s notebook back at him.

Wonwoo cracks an eye open. “It’s exaggerated and just for fun. It’s like when an artist draws from life.”

“That’s her isn’t it.” Junhui points to the girl with a high ponytail, sat at a table alone. 

“Is she picking out the cucumbers.”

“Yup.”

“That’s her.” Wonwoo confirms.

Junhui makes a little _hmmm_ noise from the back of his throat before nudging Wonwoo. “Do him.” He says, pointing to a random guy walking past them.

Wonwoo pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Green sweater and collared shirt underneath. Probably his favourite sweater by the looks of how it’s fraying at the ends. Hm. Maybe a good luck sweater. He’s probably sitting for a test today. Doesn’t look nervous, means he studied for said test. Good on him.” Then Wonwoo lies back down.

“How did you know that?” Junhui gasps.

Wonwoo laughs. “I don’t.”

Junhui purses his lips and stares at him. Then Wonwoo sees something flash in his eyes and he leans over Wonwoo, blocking the sun from his face. He sees Junhui’s lips move before he hears him.

“Do me.”

Words are just words unless used purposefully and even though Wonwoo knows exactly what Junhui is asking, his mind betrays him and goes straight for the gutter.

Ah, it’s the consequence of episode two.

“Nah.” Wonwoo declines.

 

* * *

 

Jihoon slides a cup of coffee over the kitchen counter to Wonwoo who catches it easily with a thankful smile. Mingyu’s done with heating up the bagels and he’s got half a head in the fridge looking for butter. 

“I have to go to the studio in a bit.” Jihoon tells.

Wonwoo sips his coffee. “It’s a Saturday.”

Jihoon shrugs and Wonwoo eyes him knowingly. His best friend and that recording studio have a better relationship most of the couples Wonwoo knows. Sometimes he wonders how Soonyoung feels about that but then he remembers, Soonyoung is pretty much the same with his dance studio. Wonwoo smiles to himself.

What a perfect match.

“How’s the EP coming?”

“Pretty good.” Jihoon nods, “Mingyu is helping out on one of the tracks.”

At the mention of his name, Mingyu beams and nods excitedly. He sets the warm bagels on the table and Wonwoo notes with interest that his junior made three instead of two. He turns to look at Mingyu but Mingyu is looking at Jihoon.

“You should eat before you go, hyung.”

Jihoon shakes his head at Mingyu’s offer, turning to Wonwoo. “What about you? How’s the script? Did your two week break from Soonyoung help?”

Wonwoo scrunches his nose as he laughs. “Ah… well…” He rubs the back of his neck slowly. “It’s coming along.”

Mingyu has sat himself next to Jihoon and is slowly buttering up his bagel. Wonwoo can’t quite put a finger on the expression he’s wearing. It feels familiar and foreign all at the same time.

“No progress huh.” 

“Not yet.” Wonwoo admits.

“Maybe you should take a break from it.” Jihoon suggests, “do something else. That helps me sometimes.”

“Is that how you end up with thirty songs when you set out to make five?”

Jihoon clicks his tongue at Wonwoo’s teasing but Wonwoo just smiles back. They settle into a comfortable atmosphere. The bagels that Wonwoo bought taste pretty good. Maybe he should get some for Soonyoung next time.

“Anyway,” Jihoon downs the last of his coffee. “You’re welcome to come to the studio any time.” He puts an affectionate hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I’ve got to go but, I’ll see you later?”

“Dinner is at seven.” Wonwoo nods.

“Got it.” 

And then Jihoon is disappearing into his room to get his things. Wonwoo swings himself on his stool to face Mingyu, curious look in his eye. His junior catches it quickly. 

“What?” Mingyu whispers.

Wonwoo eyes him for a long minute. Then he asks, “you want to come to dinner?”

The offer has Mingyu straightening up immediately. Bagel clutched in his hands and an excited gleam in his eye. It’s there for just a fraction of a second before Mingyu seemingly comes to a decision in his mind.

“Nah,” He shakes his head.

“I’m sure Soonyoung’s made enough spaghetti to feed one more.” Wonwoo tries again. He’s _pretty_ sure Soonyoung’s made enough to feed at least six people. Wonwoo doesn’t even know what the occasion is. Are they celebrating them returning from the trip?

That’s kind of dumb. Cute, but dumb.  

Mingyu laughs quietly before cringing. “I have dinner plans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon’s bedroom door flings open and both guys turn to face him. He’s put on a black hoodie. It’s familiar. Wonwoo remembers Soonyoung dragging him out one autumn afternoon to shop for it. The both of them have a matching set.

A quick glance at his feet sees Jihoon wearing socks with his slips. Some things just never change.

“See ya.” Jihoon waves. His keys jingle as he does.

“Mmm.” Wonwoo nods, “drive safe.”

“Bye hyung!” Mingyu pulls a smile onto his face. 

“Ok.” Jihoon nods. He waves at Wonwoo one last time before shutting the front door behind him. A final click and Wonwoo is left alone with Mingyu.

Silence fills the apartment. It’s not awkward. In fact, Wonwoo doesn’t even think Mingyu realises how quiet it is until he clears his throat.

“So, want to talk about it?”

Mingyu is mid-chew — working through his bagel when he flickers his gaze at Wonwoo. “Talk about what?”

This is either feigned ignorance or actual ignorance and for a moment, Wonwoo chews the inside of his cheek. He eyes Mingyu carefully and his junior, despite being obnoxiously tall, shrinks back under his watchful gaze. 

“W-What?” Mingyu whispers, unsure.

Actual ignorance it is.

Wonwoo shakes his head with a little smile. It feels weird to smile at this and perhaps he should be up front about this situation. It doesn’t make him happy at all.

This was not what Wonwoo had hoped for Mingyu. Not that he has a say, or can dictate the way Mingyu’s life turns. He can only nudge gently. Nudge him away from undesirable circumstances like _this_. Unrequited love has got to be one of the loneliest tropes. Its right up there next to the soulmate trope.

Both of which evoke a sort of helplessness so deep and incomprehensible Wonwoo would wish neither on anyone.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “What does your week look like? Let’s go for coffee. Maybe you can take me to that café you keep meaning to try. Have you gone yet?”

“Ah — no, I haven’t.” Mingyu scratches his neck with a grin.

“Perfect.” Wonwoo lifts his coffee at his junior, “Thursday?”

 

* * *

 

They say you can tell a lot about a person from the way they live. That very often, the room reflects a person’s state of mind.

Well, Junhui’s room is nothing like Wonwoo pictured it to be — Not that Wonwoo has been very accurate in his characterisation of Junhui.

A part of him has surrendered to the fact that he may never understand him. Junhui just doesn’t fit into any character trope that Wonwoo knows. He’s his own trope and to be completely fair, rightfully so. The guy is a bit of a wildcard.

Wonwoo stands by the door taking it all in whilst Soonyoung and Jihoon push past him.

There’s nothing in Junhui’s room save for the standard university dorm furniture, a coat hanging on the door and oddly enough, a cat plushie. They’re here to watch a movie, drink some beer and eat too many snacks. It was Soonyoung’s idea but Junhui had graciously offered his room up for tribute.

“I don’t have a lot of stuff.” Junhui confirms as he leans against the door frame just inches from Wonwoo.

“Really, I couldn’t tell.”

“Six months isn’t that long, I figured I could just buy whatever I needed here.”

“Six months is still half a year.” Wonwoo turns to look at him.

“Chicken and egg.” Junhui shrugs.

Wonwoo laughs. “I think you mean glass half full or half empty.”

“Same difference.”

“Big difference actually.” Wonwoo pats his shoulder, “very big.”

It takes them at least a half hour to decide what movie to watch. Wonwoo is nestled next to Jihoon on Junhui’s bed whilst the other two go back and forth with choices.

From what Wonwoo gathers, Soonyoung really wants to watch _Taxi Driver_ and Junhui wants to watch something of the paranormal variety. Yet another thing Wonwoo wasn’t expecting. With Junhui’s track record of dissolving every time someone new (especially if it’s a girl) talks to him, one would think that he would stay very clear of the paranormal genre. 

There’s no direct link. Wonwoo just assumed.

It was secretly fascinating to watch Soonyoung and Junhui try to convince the other. Neither of them were being particularly aggressive but also, neither of them looked willing to back down. An interesting play of dynamics.

Finally, Wonwoo sticks his socked foot out from the bed in-between the two to get their attention. “Let’s watch _Train to Busan._ ”

“Ok.” Jihoon says before either of them can begin to protest.

And then it’s settled.

They’re watching zombies infect city after city as a train speeds past the chaos.

“Of course there’s a pregnant lady.” Soonyoung smacks his forehead in dismay. “I feel like this is going to be a sad movie guys. Guys?”

“ _Taxi Diver_ is devastating and you wanted to watch it.” Wonwoo reminds him.

“That’s different. It’s about regular people being heroes in a brutally unjust time.” Soonyoung whines.

“A zombie apocalypse is literally the most unjust thing ever.” Wonwoo snorts. “Just shut up and watch.”

Soonyoung makes a swipe for one of Wonwoo’s socked feet and they exchange some pushing and shoving. They stop only when Jihoon flings a dorito chip at their faces.

Then it is peaceful watching.

Just frantic conversation, zombie growling and panic mayhem all around. The crunching of crackers and hold of breaths. Wonwoo thinks it’s a perfect Thursday night.

The snacks around them never seem to finish. Every time his hand hits the bottom of a chip back, Junhui rips a new one open in offering. Where does he get all these snacks from? Wonwoo eyes the packaging of the one he’s currently eating. He’s never tasted this before. It’s foreign. Junhui must have brought it from home.

Wonwoo stops chewing, suddenly guilty. It is then that he sees the floor littered with all of these wonderful snacks that probably… they probably mean a lot to Junhui.

“You don’t like it?” Junhui leans his head back onto his bed. He’s sat on the floor and Wonwoo is elevated on the bed. From this angle, Junhui looks a bit like a child. “Try this one.”

Wonwoo shakes his head quickly. “Don’t uh, don’t you want to keep some for yourself?” He holds the snack bag in his hand out to Junhui who stares at it for a second.

“I have more. Go ahead.” Junhui smiles, waving a hand like _it’s fine! It’s fine!_

Generosity.

When he turns his head back to the television, Wonwoo’s eyes remain on Junhui. The blueish hue from the screen flicker and flash on the dancers face and for a moment, Wonwoo thinks to himself — fuck he’s falling into episode three.

We haven’t talked about episode three.

Actually we haven’t even talked about what we’re really watching here.

What _are_ we watching?

“I hate that guy.” Soonyoung seethes. He ruffles his own hair in frustration before pointing furiously to the telly. “Him!!!! I hate him so much!!!!!”

Jihoon makes a noise as if to agree.

“He’s really well written.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Shut up don’t empathise with the bad guy.” Soonyoung shushes him. 

“But he is. For you to hate him this much, he’s really effective.”

Soonyoung makes a _pfft_ sound before turning to Junhui who’s sat next to him on the floor. He jabs a thumb behind him at Wonwoo and says in the most unamused voice, “for all of his character appreciation and love for the bad guys, watch him cry at the end when we don’t get a happy ending.”

Wonwoo raises his brows and laughs. “What!”

Junhui has turned around to stare at him with interest.

Following him, Soonyoung whips around to face him completely, “I know you, Jeon Wonwoo! Mr. Perfect-scenario. You’d die for the simplest, most cheesy, cliché storylines because that’s what you _love._ ”

 

* * *

 

“You’re right.” Wonwoo mumbles to himself. “Their ages don’t add up.” Red pen in his hand, he crosses out the timeline he’s drafted and flips over to a new page.

Clean, untouched lines. Just waiting to be the launch pad for a universe.

Wonwoo hunches over his notebook and furrows his brow. He counts the numbers in his mind, on his lips, with his fingers. Has anyone ever told you how difficult it is to create a supernatural world with supernatural beings complete with supernatural lore?

No?

Yep. Nobody told Wonwoo either.

But here he is, drafting the first outline for his debut piece.

“Ugh,” Wonwoo groans, “fucking werewolves and their extended lives.”

He writes a sentence: _fifty nine years, two months, six days._

Wonwoo circles the sentence a few times and annotates, ‘Ginger.’ Then he removes his spectacles to throw them on the desk as he leans back in his chair to groan.

His eyes feel strained so he does the exact opposite of what he should, he scrubs against them with the palms of his hands.

It’s been three months since his pitch was approved. A week from now the drafts for episodes one to three are due. Tell him when he was twenty and in university that he’d be writing for a drama series set to drop two years from now and he’d probably laugh in your face.

Not because it’s funny but because he wouldn’t be able to believe that he is living the dream. Wonwoo looks around his home office. Paper strewn everywhere — some squashed, some loose. Horrifying amount of post-its on his wall detailing important plot points and character arcs. He doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know he probably looks like shit.

He’s totally living the dream.

He’s not explicitly said it out loud but yeah, the dream — to be able to write about what he loves for a living. What else could he want?

“What is it about?” Jihoon had asked that one day when the three of them were sat in a café. Outside was pouring — heavy rain pelting down. It was so loud and so much that all Wonwoo really heard was a long, dragged out note of rain.

Inside though, inside was dry. Soft elevator music playing, plants hanging from the ceiling. Warmth all around.

“It’s about _love,_ obviously _.”_ Soonyoung waves his straw about like it’s a pointer. “That’s all he writes about.” 

“That’s not true.” Wonwoo scrunches his face, “I write about plenty else.”

“Which all lead back to love so, yeah. You write about love.” Soonyoung thrusts his straw back into his drink and sucks at it.

“Do you have a problem with love?” Wonwoo raises his brows. He pauses to shoot Jihoon a look and his best friend just shrugs.

“Nope.” Soonyoung shakes his head, “no problem at all, why would I have a problem with love? We all love love. Love is great. Love is the best.”

Wonwoo puts down his fork from where he was about to stab his blueberry cheesecake. Alright. Something is wrong.

“Ignore him.” Jihoon dismisses. His words are sharper than Wonwoo thinks he intended them to be.

A pause for tension - 

Then, Soonyoung inhales slowly. It is a deep intake of breath and an exhale.

Wonwoo darts his eyes between both his best friends in slight confusion.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three — _oh._

He doesn’t get to say anything. 

Soonyoung is standing from the table muttering “excuse me,” and then he’s out the door before Wonwoo can get a word in.

“ _Hosh—_ “ Wonwoo stands in concern. His chair scratches against the wood flooring, drawing a sharp noise but Soonyoung is already stalking out in the rain towards his car. He doesn’t look back. Wonwoo watches the rain beat down on his shoulders as he gets in and slams the door.

“Should we go out?” He asks Jihoon carefully.

“Leave him be.”

Wonwoo darts his gaze between the both of his best friends and then, quietly sits himself down.

“He’ll come back.” Jihoon says.

It is a day that Wonwoo remembers vividly.

He remembers telling Jihoon about the script and worrying about Soonyoung. He remembers ordering a second drink and Jihoon disallowing the waitress from clearing Soonyoung’s. He remembers Soonyoung coming back into the café, drenched from head-to-toe, and sitting himself back at their table.

And finally, he remembers Jihoon shrugging off his coat to give it to Soonyoung. 

Wonwoo remembers it because that day was about love.  

Not fluffed up, overly romanticised love but real love. Regular, day-to-day love. The best kind.

And to a certain extent, Soonyoung is right. All Wonwoo writes about _is_ love. Heck, the one he’s writing now is about a werewolf and vampire’s endless, enduring love.

Why?

“Why what?” Wonwoo asks Mingyu.

It’s Thursday and this café that Mingyu has taken him to is really nice. Wonwoo might even bring his script here to work on sometime.

“Why do you tear them apart after letting them meet?” The broken hearted expression his junior wears is nothing short of adorable. Mingyu’s always worn his big, soft heart on his sleeve. Wonwoo guesses it was made to scale with Mingyu himself. 

“Because love doesn’t always go in a straight line.” Wonwoo shrugs. “There’s no guaranteed answer or ending. Except in writing, of course.” He corrects himself. “I like making it as realistic as I can. _Well,_ as realistic as vampires and werewolves can be.”  

Mingyu juts out his lower lip and closes Wonwoo’s script. “So do they get a happy ending?”

“Million dollar question.” Wonwoo whistles.

“ _Hyung,_ ” Mingyu begs.

“What’s the point of me telling you the end? How are you going to enjoy the middle? Are you trying to get out of watching the actual thing when it releases?”

“I’ll enjoy the middle fully! Thoroughly! If you give me a peace of mind for the end!”

Wonwoo scoffs. “You take the fun out of it that way.”

“You’re kind of sadistic, has anyone ever told you that?”

A disbelieving huff whooshes out of Wonwoo’s lips. “I’m what?” He laughs. Mingyu’s eyes are narrowed at him accusingly. Cute.

“Okay, fine, yes. The moon rises in the end.” Wonwoo leans back in his chair. “Happy?”

Mingyu smacks his chest and rubs it in small circles, relief on his face. “Thank the _moon!_ ”

Wonwoo laughs again. “I quite like that phrase."

“Me too.” Mingyu beams.

Their conversation fills Wonwoo with a certain kind of joy. It’s warm, glowing and it puts his heart in a good place.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says.

Wonwoo looks up. “Hm?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

 

* * *

 

Past the initial introduction — the first bloom of a meeting, the actual protagonist begins to find themselves trapped in continuous, seemingly endless tangle of a dance with the almost-protagonist.

Usually metaphorical but in this case, literal.

“I’m telling you,” Wonwoo insists. “I can’t dance.” A flush of pink has started crawling it’s way up his neck. His hands, already cold, turn a little clammy.

These dance major house parties were always the bane of his existence. Wonwoo enjoys parties, he really does. Alcohol? A few stupid decisions? He’s all about that.

But _dancing_?

Being a literal arts major meant he was technically not obliged to attend but being Soonyoung’s best friend means he has little say in the matter.

Speaking of — Where _is_ Kwon Soonyoung?

Wonwoo’s been sat awkwardly on the couch with a drink in hand waiting for Jihoon to show up. Knowing him, he’s probably still in the studios. If he decides to show up to this house party, it’ll be well after 12am.

“Everyone can dance.” Junhui insists back. He grabs Wonwoo’s hand and begins gently tugging him off the couch. The initial relief of seeing Junhui has worn off. At first he was thankful to see another familiar face but now that he’s caught on to what Junhui wants him to do, he wishes Junhui didn’t find him in the first place.

“No.” Wonwoo laugh-cringes. “I assure you, not everyone can dance.” He’s verbally protesting but _damn_ , why is he getting off the couch?

“Dancing is moving,” Junhui waves a hand as Wonwoo stumbles into standing upright. “Moving is breathing. Everyone breathes.”

Wonwoo jerks his head backwards at the warped logic but Junhui pays little to no attention to how unconvinced he looks. He’s a bit distracted with tugging Wonwoo to the crowd of moving bodies in the living room.

Oh no. 

“ _Junhui_ ,” Wonwoo warns. Really, it’s leaning over to a beg. He tugs against Junhui’s hand but the action only has Junhui’s clasping tighter.

Bodies brush against Wonwoo as Junhui weaves the both of them through the crowd. Good god, are they going right to the center?

A protest is just at the tip of Wonwoo’s mouth, ready to launch — but then Junhui stops tugging, swings around with the biggest smile on his face and says determinedly, “okay.”

_Nope._

One look at Wonwoo and Junhui is stifling a laugh in his hand. “Relax.” He says, grabbing Wonwoo’s shoulders to give him a little shake.

“I’m relaxed.” Wonwoo clears his throat and shrugs Junhui’s hands off. The weight slides off his shoulders and Junhui smiles at him.

The music is much louder here. It drums in Wonwoo’s ears like the bass moves the floor beneath him. He can’t really remember what happened to the drink he was holding. He must have left it by the couch.

Lights are flashing — steaks of red, blues and yellows.

Junhui starts moving.

He closes his eyes as he dances and Wonwoo watches the entire thing. Fluid, like contained water but also free. It flashes Wonwoo back to that time he watched Junhui at that dance showcase.

That was the first time he saw Junhui dance. It’s been many times more after and this one, well, Wonwoo doesn’t know what number of times this one is. It really doesn’t get old. Junhui is a stunning dancer.

“Should I dance around you?” Junhui teases, making to move around Wonwoo. “Like you’re a lamp, or a tree.”

Wonwoo scrunches his nose. “Please don’t.” He laughs, throwing a hand out to stop Junhui.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have because much to Wonwoo’s surprise, Junhui takes his hand and guides it to his waist.

It feels strange — his hand on Junhui’s waist. Strange in the sense that Wonwoo doesn’t hate it. 

Junhui sways a little closer and on reflex, Wonwoo leans backwards. He doesn’t put enough distance between them for Junhui covers it quickly.

Vanilla and cinnamon.

Junhui’s cheek brushes against Wonwoo’s. Smooth on stubble.

“It’s mileage, Wonwoo.” He whispers. Breath, hot against his ear.

“What?” Wonwoo daren’t turn his head to look; just in case they do something stupid like bump noses.

“Dancing,” Junhui clarifies, leaning back to lock eyes with him. “Dancing is mileage. The more you do it the better you get at it.”

“I’m sure.” Wonwoo nods agreeably as Junhui lulls them into a little movement. A pause. And then he asks, “Why do I need dancing mileage?”

Junhui sighs audibly. Brows furrowing and mouth turning downwards. Wonwoo thinks he’s going to pull away but he doesn’t. He makes a _mmmm_ noise like he’s a grumpy old man thinking about something and then looks at Wonwoo. “I’m doing you a favour.” He says importantly.

Such the wildcard.

“I hate to break it to you but—“

His sentence is cut short when Junhui pushes a finger against his lips. “Shhh!” He says.

Wonwoo’s heart hammers in his chest.

“Look around,” Junhui gestures with his head, “This is the perfect scenario.”

Bait.

Wonwoo can’t help the curve of a smile that tugs at his lips. Okay, he’ll bite. “And what exactly is this perfect for?”

His hand is still on Junhui’s waist. It has no reason to be there, Junhui isn’t holding it in place any more. But there Wonwoo’s hand stays. He feels Junhui sway to the music.

It’s not fully a dance but it is movement nonetheless.

“Isn’t this what happens in stories?” Junhui says thoughtfully, “a party, some dancing, stepping on beer cans—“

_Crunch._

They both look down at the floor in surprise. Wonwoo’s heel just dug into an empty can of beer. He chuckles in disbelief before turning back to Junhui.

“Okay,” he says, “carry on.” 

Junhui grins before tilting his head and making his voice mock serious. “This is _the_ university experience. Later we’re going to accidentally smoke something, drink a little too much, have a crazy time then wake up by the side of the road, naked.” He makes a smug expression that Wonwoo ignores.

“I’m not sure about the naked part.” Wonwoo titters.

“You need to live it once so that you can write about it later!” Junhui spins around happily before landing back in Wonwoo’s arms — smile on his face. “Writing mileage!”

“Ah yes, I was wondering where you were going with this.” Wonwoo nods slowly, smile on his lips.

Junhui makes a knowing noise. “Come on, tell me there’s some place in all the stories you write for a situation just like this—“

On cue, someone bumps into them, slamming into Junhui’s side. The impact spins them both off balance and Wonwoo grasps at him quickly in a feeble attempt to prevent the both of them from face planting to the floor.

They fall anyway.

A clamber of limbs and Junhui is falling onto Wonwoo. They hit the wood floor with a thud but Wonwoo barely feels it. Junhui’s face is inches from his looking a little jostled and breathless.

He’s laughing and Wonwoo cannot look away.

“Well?” Junhui raises his brows.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo breathes, “This happens in episode three.”

 

* * *

 

A buzz of a noise in Wonwoo’s ear. He flickers his gaze to where his script is clutched in Mingyu’s hands.

“Is this about my script?” He raises a brow.

Mingyu nods. “What’s it like?” He leans forward on the table and blinks at Wonwoo. “Being in love?”

It is a fraction of a second that Wonwoo sees something flash in Mingyu’s eyes. Desperation. A longing for some sort of confirmation. Confirmation that what he’s feeling right now _is_ indeed love.

Confirmation that Wonwoo isn’t too sure it’s his place to give.

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo says.

Mingyu protests. “Don’t lie to me!” He narrows his eyes. “You’re twenty five! Nobody ever made your heart flutter? Not even once? I just want to know.”

“Heart fluttering is not necessarily love.” Wonwoo points a finger at his junior. “You know that, right?”

Mingyu pushes the finger away with a huff. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo sips his coffee.

Mingyu makes a face and Wonwoo sighs. “Just because I write about love doesn’t mean I know anything about it.”

It is both true and false at the same time. Ironic, Wonwoo knows.

He has a pretty good idea of what love is when he sees it around him. An old couple holding hands. A thoughtfully handwritten card. A genuine question of concern. Love is all around if you just look.

Every so often Wonwoo gets a real good glimpse of it.

Sometimes expectedly and others — unexpected.

Kind of like now; when he lets himself into his apartment after dropping Mingyu back home.

Soonyoung is pulling away from Jihoon to turn to Wonwoo, red faced. “Hey!” He greets a little too loudly. Jihoon peers from around him to raise his wrist in hello.

They’re on the couch and Wonwoo just walked in on them. Soonyoung is rubbing his lips with the back of his sleeve. His ears: pink.

“Hey.” Wonwoo grins before turning away quickly. As both of their best friends, it is in Wonwoo’s best interest to leave and let them kiss in peace. Not that he minds them kissing in front of him. Heck, they can do whatever they want. Wonwoo’s just protecting Soonyoung. It’s been _years_ but for some reason, Soonyoung’s always been a little shy.

You’d think that it’ll be Jihoon going full beetroot red but nope. It’s Soonyoung.

Wonwoo thinks it’s cute.

“You guys hungry yet?” He shouts from the kitchen (well away from the couch).

“A little.” Soonyoung’s voice cracks. “You?”

“I could eat.” Wonwoo replies, “chicken and beer?”

“Soy garlic.” Jihoon says.

“Done.” Wonwoo smiles, whipping out his phone. He scrolls through his usual food delivery app and makes an order within five minutes. “Thirty minutes!” He tells before walking to his room.

See, Wonwoo’s good with spotting love around him. He’s really good at seeing it. He’s even better at dissecting it into palatable, episodic bite sizes for television.

Wonwoo is so good at it, he’s being paid to do it.

He glances at his desk and it’s organised chaos of plot bits for emphasis. Yeah, really good. Shrugging off his coat, he collapses onto his bed with a little sigh — burying his face in his pillow. Despite having two whole cups of coffee with Mingyu, Wonwoo is exhausted. Caffeine stopped working for him in his last year of university.

Now he’s got thirty minutes to lie down before their food gets delivered.

Well, twenty, considering the passing of time.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

After dinner he can revisit his draft and work on it into the night. For now — he rests.

It can’t be a little over fifteen minutes that his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. Sleep had claimed him fully in those short minutes and Wonwoo fumbles around weakly for the device. Eyes closed and limbs heavy, he picks up.

“Hey, yeah.” He says, voice rough, “I’ll be right there, give me a sec.” He stumbles out of bed, hand — reaching for his door when a soft, familiar voice crackles over the line.

“Hey, liberal arts major.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay I know it’s really out of the way,” Soonyoung begs, “like an hour by bus but—“

“Nope.” Jihoon says, face expressionless.

“Fine,” Soonyoung gives up, folding his arms over his chest miserably. “I’ll go with Junhui!”

“Have fun.” Wonwoo and Jihoon say at the same time. Their eyes don’t leave their computer screens for even a second. They’re in a gaming café and Soonyoung lost interest after coming to terms with his computer illiteracy. He’s been sat moping by an empty seat begging the other two to go with him to this festival a little out of town.

“ _Guys_ ,” Soonyoung groans loudly. “I haven’t asked him, I don’t even know if he’ll come.”

“Come where?”

Junhui’s voice surprises and Wonwoo’s finger slips. He misses the target and someone kills him off. He takes a sharp inhale and sighs defeated as Jihoon shoots him an accusing look.

“There’s this festival that’s happening out of town. A b-boy group I really, really, _really_ love is going to perform. There’s food and games and I’m sure there’s like—“

“Yeah, okay.” Junhui says easily.

Soonyoung’s lips quiver and his eyebrows slant downwards. “Really?” He whispers.

“You had me at food.” Junhui nods. “I’ll go.”

“I love you _so_ much, please don’t leave us. Stay forever.” Soonyoung clings to him and buries his face in Junhui’s shoulder. It pulls a light-hearted laugh from Junhui and he pats Soonyoung’s shoulder sweetly.

“The other two won’t come because they’re cave goblins.” Soonyoung grumbles. “We can go! Just you and me!” 

Wonwoo thinks he sees Jihoon press at his keys a little harder than usual. Curious. He’s just about to open his mouth to say something when a hand slips over his shoulder. The slight pressure fizzles Wonwoo’s brain.

“Come.” Junhui says to him, tugging a little at his collar. “It’ll be fun!”

“Okay.” The word tumbles out of his lips. Slippery, beyond his control.

Soonyoung throws his hands in the air, triumphant. “Yesssssss!!!!” Then he’s laughing with Junhui. The sound of their happiness, flooding the gaming café. Light, airy, carefree.

Wonwoo leans to his right and nudges Jihoon. “Hoon?”

Jihoon turns to him reluctantly.

“Don’t leave me hanging.” Wonwoo implores.  

“Fine.” Jihoon sighs. 

So they go.

To this festival out of town. 

All four of them.

It is literally a school festival episode, minus the school and plus a lot of travelling. Wonwoo thinks Junhui may have a point about experiences. They contribute to his writing mileage – kind of like game exp.

Now if he ever wants to write about a bus journey that never ends, Wonwoo will know exactly how to go about doing it. The vehicle jumps at a bump on the road and Wonwoo’s head smacks the back of the seat. He winces.

“Wonwoo,” Junhui nudges him with his elbow.

“Mmm.”

“ _Wonwoo._ ” Junhui nudges him a little harder. Enough for Wonwoo to give up trying to sleep. Junhui isn’t deterred by Wonwoo’s frown, he just points excitedly behind them. “ _Look_.” He whispers.

It is baffling how unbothered Junhui looks with this nauseating bus ride. How his ash brow hair still looks perfect after forty minutes of travel. Junhui nudges his head backwards so Wonwoo turns to look.

Then his eyes fly open and he turns back around — staring disbelieving into thin air, mouth curved upwards. _Oh._

“Finally.” Junhui shoots a thanks up into the universe.  

“Shit.” Wonwoo breathes. Junhui begins to turn to steal another look but Wonwoo grabs his arm. “Leave them alone.” He laughs.

Junhui hides his face behinds his hands and wiggles in his seat. Like as if his happiness and joy, rubs like an bolt of electricity down his spine. Wonwoo watches the entire thing with amusement.

“I didn’t know you knew.” He says.

Junhui lets out an excited noise. “I didn’t.”

Wonwoo blinks at him and then he laughs. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Has it?” Junhui whispers before groaning. “I’m so dumb!”

“Nah, if anyone out of the four of us is dumb, it’s those two. They’ve been circling each other since first year. Frankly, I was getting tired of watching.”

Junhui gasps softly. His big expressive eyes widen in slight horror.

“What?” Wonwoo raises his brows.

“Our four is down to two.” Junhui sings dramatically.

Wonwoo snorts. “Did you just try and quote the Lion King but do it wrong.” 

“No.” Junhui sniffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “Anyway, it’s a good thing I’m here.” He closes his eyes as he leans back against his seat, smug smile on his face.

“Why’s that?”  

Junhui cracks an eye open at Wonwoo. “I complete our two.”

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo stills.

His first instinct is to pull his phone away from his ear to check but his hand remains stubbornly where it is. He doesn’t need to check. He knows this voice by heart. His pulse jumps to a race.

“Hey,” the word spills out of his mouth.

A laugh crackles over the line.

“Did I wake you? Isn’t it like five in the evening over there?”

Wonwoo walks slowly back to his bed and sits by the corner. He rubs a hand over his mouth before answering. “Yeah, I was uh — taking a nap.”

“At five in the evening? Won’t that interrupt your sleep?”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Grills-sausages-at-two-in-the-morning.” Wonwoo retorts before he thinks it through. He kicks himself mentally.

“It was _one_ time!” Junhui gasps.

“You recorded the whole thing and then sent it to me.”

“You enjoyed it though.”

“Yeah I watched it like five times.” Wonwoo chuckles softly.

He hears Junhui laugh back. It’s honey sweet in his ears and suddenly, Wonwoo feels something strange tug at his chest.

“We missed you on the trip.” Junhui murmurs.

Wonwoo stares at a nondescript spot on his wall. “Yeah. I know.” He says before adding, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no it’s my fault. I should have checked with you guys first.“

_Don’t say that._

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about, do you think—“

_Brrr! Brrr! Brrr!_

Wonwoo jolts.

“Hey, sorry. I’ve got an incoming call.” Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. _Fuck._ “I think it’s my dinner. Can I — can I call you back?”

“Ah! Yeah! Sure. Tell Soonyoung I said hi!”

“Yeah will do.” Wonwoo murmurs. His thumb hovers over the line for a fraction of a second before he cuts it and picks the other up.

“I’ll be right there. Give me a second.”

 

* * *

 

The festival is nothing like the cinematic picture you envisioned in your head when you read that the four of them were going to one.

Yup. Nothing like that.

No colourful bunting with paper lanterns and food stalls lined up in neat rows. No peaceful families walking around playing games. Nope. Not the festival episode that Wonwoo was expecting.

He can’t quite decide how he feels about it.

The floor is grass and mud. Mostly mud. It rained a bit on their way here. Wonwoo’s sneakers are an inch deep under.

Loud music blares from the overhead make shift speakers. The crowd is an _interesting_ mix of people aged 19-40. Age is not an issue, Wonwoo is merely making an observation. The observation is also that a lot of them are drunk and it’s not even 8pm. Is—is that guy taking off his pants?

Junhui is the first to say something. “Wow!”  

"No shit." Jihoon agrees. 

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” Soonyoung begins.

Wonwoo is already laughing. “Just fucking find the stage so you can watch the b-boy group. I’m going to find some alcohol, I’m too sober for this place.”

Soonyoung inhales slowly and nods in agreement. “Good call.”

“Okay!” Junhui chirps, “you guys have fun!” He throws an arm over Wonwoo and begins dragging him away.

“Hey—“ Wonwoo gasps. He turns to look at his best friends but both of them have their eyes to the ground in embarrassment. Ah. 

“We’ll catch up!” Wonwoo shouts and Jihoon waves.

Once the couple is out of sight and there’s a plastic cup of too many things in Wonwoo’s hand, he says, “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?” Junhui sniffs at his own plastic cup. He takes a sip and then makes the most exaggerated _bleugh_ face that Wonwoo has ever seen. It makes him chuckle.

“Don’t taste it.” He says, “chug it.”

Junhui eyes him for a hesitant minute so Wonwoo tips his head back and finishes his in a single shot. He exhales from his mouth and tips the cup over his head to prove it’s empty. It tastes bad but that’s not why you drink these things.

“Believe they finally admitted it.” Wonwoo answers, waving his hand at Junhui to drink.

Junhui chugs it as best he can. It’s adorable, he almost doesn’t make it. Some of it spills onto the floor. “Did they?” He croaks.

“Oh yeah,” Wonwoo nods, “the whole looking to the floor embarrassed. They’re real close to the last episode.”

Junhui has a hand over his head, mirroring what Wonwoo did with his cup. “What’s that?”

“What?”

“The episode thing.” Junhui tilts his head curiously.

“Oh. It’s nothing.” Wonwoo shakes his head, “it’s just how I timeline things, it’s dumb.”

“So….. Soonyoung and Jihoon are on the final episode?”

Wonwoo shrugs easily, “Close. We can’t be sure yet. Anything can happen.”

“And we’re on episode three?”

 

* * *

 

“I love chicken _so_ much.” Soonyoung sighs happily as Wonwoo and Jihoon start opening the cardboard take out boxes. “But only when they’re wearing clothes, you know.”

“We know.” Wonwoo confirms with a little chuckle.

“Cause like, I used to raise chickens and I can’t — _oh I can’t.”_ Soonyoung slaps a hand over his own mouth and Jihoon makes an exasperated face at him.

“You literally did that to yourself.” His boyfriend says, “neither of us brought it up.”

“I know.” Soonyoung covers his face. “Just give me a minute.”

Jihoon shakes his head and opens a can of beer. He slides it over to Soonyoung with a click of his tongue but Wonwoo knows it’s affectionate. He’s portioning out the chicken and Jihoon is getting some extra plates when suddenly, Soonyoung looks at Wonwoo.

“You okay?”

Wonwoo flickers his gaze up at his best friend. “Yeah. Why?”

Soonyoung purses his lips, “you’re being really quiet.” 

“I’m just tired.” Wonwoo smiles, “it’s nothing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

A bemused pause.

And then Wonwoo makes a face. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Do you want me to be?” Junhui leans forward with a playful glint in his eye.

Wonwoo raises a brow.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three—

Junhui groans and buries his face in his hands, shuddering from embarrassment. His ears singe red and he begins smacking the side of his face with his hands. Wonwoo watches in pure enjoyment.

He leans on the standing table they’re at and shakes his head. “You really need to work on your hold out time. You barely make three seconds, you know that?”

“I need another drink.” Junhui’s voice is muffled in his hands. 

Even though Wonwoo hears him perfectly, he leans forward and teases, “you say something?”

“I said I need another drink,” Junhui groans, swatting Wonwoo away as he laughs.

They buy extra for Jihoon and Soonyoung. It doesn’t take them long to find the two, Soonyoung is hollering  with the music and cheering for the b-boy group. He was easy to spot even though the crowd is dense. Jihoon nods at Wonwoo as he passes him a drink and they both watch Junhui runs up to Soonyoung to join him.

“So,” Wonwoo begins.

“We really going to do this now?” Jihoon raises his brows.

Wonwoo laughs – full scrunching on his face. “No.”

Jihoon clicks their plastic cups together in thanks.

“I’m really happy for you guys.” Wonwoo says.

“Thanks.” Jihoon presses his lips together in a small smile.

“Does this mean you’ll take him when we all move out of uni?”

“You wish. You signed the apartment with him, he’s your responsibility.” 

“I could live with Mingyu.” Wonwoo suggests. 

Jihoon shoots a look at him. “Does Mingyu want to live with you?”

“Ouch.” Wonwoo gasps. “I’ll have you know that Mingyu and I have a special relationship of mutual support and platonic love.”

Jihoon laughs at that and Wonwoo shoves him with his shoulder. The crowd is getting louder, seems like the final act is coming out in a bit. People are shoving to move closer to the front and Wonwoo gives way to let them.

The sea of people carry Soonyoung and Junhui a little further from sight but they take care not to drift too far. Wonwoo can still see Junhui throwing his head back and laughing at something Soonyoung has said. They push and shove playfully at each other. A picture of happiness that blurs into the flashing stage lights.

For a minute, all Wonwoo sees is ash brown hair, eyes filled with wonder, cupid’s bow on his lips.

“I can’t believe he’s leaving next week.” Jihoon says.

“Yeah.” Wonwoo agrees. “Neither can I.”

 

* * *

 

“We’ll clean up,” Soonyoung begins pushing Wonwoo to his room. “You go take a shower and rest and I don’t know, put on a face mask or something. You been looking at the script too much man. I suggest you go to bed and start tomorrow morning. You know? Fresh mind and all.”

“Look at you,” Wonwoo teases, “mothering me.”

“Don’t even get me started. Mingyu told me you barely left the house when we went to China.” Soonyoung clicks his tongue and shoves Wonwoo a little harder.

“I was working.” Wonwoo argues even though he knows it is useless.

Another targeted shove has him stumbling into his bedroom. He swings around and grins at Soonyoung. “You know, if you just wanted time alone with Jihoon, I could slum it out on the streets for a few hours.”

Soonyoung flushes from neck up to cheek and he sputters. “Don’t make this about me!” He smacks Wonwoo on his chest. “Seriously man. I’m worried about you. Work with me here.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Wonwoo assures him. “I’m fine.”

The unconvinced expression on Soonyoung’s face makes Wonwoo hesitate. For some reason the pause has him questioning his own self. _Is_ he fine? Well, yeah of course he is. He’s just tired. Writing as many characters as he has been doing with his script is pretty mentally draining. There are so many characters, a whole blooming thirteen of them.

It’s only natural that he’s tired. He may not be doing a lot of physical moving but his mind, his mind is always busy.

“You know,” Soonyoung begins, “maybe you should tal—“ He stops and catches himself.

Wonwoo says slowly, “I should?” 

“Soonyoung.” Jihoon warns from where he sits in the kitchen. It has his boyfriend turning towards him with a guilty look that is lost on Wonwoo. _What?_

“Ah –“ Soonyoung clears his throat, before laughing nervously. “Sleep! Sleep!”

He closes Wonwoo’s own bedroom door on him before Wonwoo can even say anything. The wood door clicks shut and Wonwoo puts his hands on his hips.

Well.

Guess it’s time to continue working.

 

* * *

 

“There you are!” An arm throws over Wonwoo with a force that almost has him dropping his cigarette. He makes a sound from the back of his throat and looks up to see Junhui’s mouth dropped in a little ‘O’ shape. They lock eyes for a moment before Junhui says, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

He pulls Wonwoo close to him to scrutinise the cigarette. He does it comically but Wonwoo cannot find it in himself to laugh. He’s distracted by how close together their faces are.

“I don’t.” Wonwoo murmurs just before he takes a long drag.

Junhui purses his lips and Wonwoo turns his head to exhale away from the dancer. He watches the smoke blow away with the night breeze. It happens pretty quickly. Quick enough for Wonwoo to be caught off guard when Junhui swipes the cigarette from his fingers and turns on his heel.

He doesn’t get far. 

Wonwoo reaches to curl hand around Junhui’s arm as he tugs him back around.

The lithe dancer spins around from the force and then — they’re too close. Body on body. Wonwoo’s cigarette in Junhui’s mouth.

It’s distracting the way his lips curve around the roll.

Wonwoo lifts his hand to pull it from Junhui’s mouth. The urge to smoke has suddenly left. Seeing the cigarette in-between Junhui’s lips put Wonwoo off it completely.

It’s hypocritical, isn’t it?

He drops the cigarette to the floor and digs his heel against it.

“Bad habit.” Wonwoo shrugs.

Junhui rocks on his heels and nods agreeably. “Super bad.” It’s innocent, the way he does it. It makes Wonwoo feel bad for even lighting one in the first place.

He hasn’t smoked in a long while actually. He kicked the habit early into the first year of university. It had started giving him slight hand trembles. He doesn’t know why he walked up to the closest guy with a light to ask for one. Guess it just happened. 

“Where’re the other two?”

Junhui stops swinging his arms about like he does when he has nothing to do. “The line-up finished and now it’s just a big dance party.”

“Why are you here then?” Wonwoo laughs, brows furrowing. “That sounds like something you’d like.”

Junhui tilts his head and blinks owlishly. “Why are you?”

Wonwoo laughs again. 

“I’m saving a spot for the fireworks.” He digs his hands into his pockets and jerks his head towards the sky. Junhui follows his gaze and together they stare at the midnight blue.

“How do you know this is a good spot?”

“I don’t.” Wonwoo says. “I just want it to be.” 

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung was on to something when he told Wonwoo to shower. The almost scalding water seemed to have eased the tightness in his shoulder. It feels warm where it used to feel a tangle of a knot. Wonwoo rubs his towel over his hair as he sits by his desk. He opens his laptop and the screen lights up to reveal what he was last working on. 

Now’s as good a time as any to read through what he has; spot any grammar mistakes, that sort of thing.

So he reads quietly. Hand in his hair moving in slow circles. 

He reads for a few hours – fingers tapping away at his keyboard and towel, abandoned on the floor. He scribbles notes on his notebook and adds a few important points to a few characters.

When he feels like he has put in enough time, it is 11PM.

 

* * *

 

“You’re a romantic.” Junhui tells him. 

“A what?” Wonwoo laughs.

“A romantic.” Junhui twirls around for emphasis. “A lover of romance.” He swings his long arms around and finishes by hugging himself. 

Wonwoo watches him with amusement. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one. You write about it a lot.” Junhui says a matter-of-factly. His expression is mock serious before it morphs into a sort of dreamy melancholy.

“And then... there’s this.” Junhui turns his head to the sky and forms a little rectangle frame with his fingers. He squints as if to find the perfect angle before turning to Wonwoo. “The way you see things. The way you want to see things.”

“I don’t think that makes me romantic.” Wonwoo says.

“You don’t think so?” Junhui looks at him. “I think it’s pretty romantic to want to have a perfect scenario. The way you plan things and what did you call it? Timeline things!” He smiles. “I wish I thought like that. My thoughts are everywhere.”

“Your thoughts are fine as they are.” Wonwoo murmurs, “besides I don’t think it’s that great to tunnel in on one perfect scenario. You kind of lock yourself down and limit the options when you fixate like that. It’s kind of sad.” He shrugs.

“Why is it sad?” Junhui lowers his hands as he asks. His eyes, already large, round and stare at Wonwoo expectantly.

“Well…” Wonwoo begins, “what if the perfect scenario never happens?”

 _Whistling_ high up in the air has Wonwoo jerking his head up to the sky in surprise.

He sees a spark of a light before its explodes with a thundering _bang!_

The _crackling_ and _fizzling_ spreads in a dash of colour across midnight blue.

Wonwoo inhales, eyes widening as he watches fireworks burst forth from behind Junhui. One after another and then more and then the sky is almost completely lit in a symphony of light.

A dazzling show of blues, reds and yellow.

Light flashing and sparks flying. 

Wonwoo drops his gaze to find Junhui already looking at him.

“What if it does?”

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo’s phone sits where he last left it on his desk.

He reaches for it and pulls up his recent calls.

_Incoming (5:19PM): Wen Junhui_

He stares at it for a moment before clicking his screen off and putting his phone back on his desk.

He flips his lights off and walks to his bed.

 

* * *

 

Foreshadowing; _a warning or indication of (a future event)._

A commonly used literary device meant to help develop expectations about the coming events in a story. It’s the dots that get connected at the end. The seed that is planted to bear the fruit of realisation. 

Wonwoo knows it well. He sat through an entire lecture about it. He’s studied about it and learnt to apply it. That’s why he pushes down the swirling feeling of strangeness in his chest as he watches Soonyoung and Jihoon help Junhui lift his luggage onto the airport trolley. Half a year has come and gone.

For someone who came to Korea with close to nothing, Junhui sure is leaving with a lot.  

“I can carry it,” Junhui insists as Soonyoung grunts from the staggering weight.

“What are you smuggling a body in there or something?” Soonyoung heaves as Junhui takes over laughing.

“I wish,” he makes a sad face, “I’d take you all with me if I could.”

“Or you could just stay.” Wonwoo says. “Less carbon footprint and all.”

All three of his friends turn to stare at him, surprised. And then Soonyoung is agreeing and being very loud about his sadness. He hugs Junhui for the fourth time in the hour.

“You have a way with words.” Jihoon comments as he moves to stand next to Wonwoo.

“I’m being practical.”

“For sure.” Jihoon folds his arms over his chest. “Because practicality is your obvious strong suit.”

Wonwoo presses his lips together.  

“Have you told him?” Jihoon asks. 

“Told him what?” Wonwoo asks back.

Jihoon turns to look at Wonwoo and Wonwoo does the same. Both friends stare at each other for an unspeaking moment and the strangeness in Wonwoo’s chest spurs back to the surface.

It is a Sunday.

Junhui waves goodbye to them at 10:12AM.

Past the glass doors and the gates of immigration, he turns back to hop and wave at them one last time. Wonwoo sees his ash brown hair, eyes filled with wonder and cupid’s bow on his lips.

And then, he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

Gone. 

Just like that. 

Like a series dropped with no explanation.  

Like a character killed off with no prior warning.

Just, _gone_.

Wonwoo stares at the immigration gates until Jihoon tugs him away. Then he stares out the car window and has an unintentional car-window moment. He imagines a song playing in the background. It's one Junhui played and sang to whilst they studied together that one time. A Chinese song that Wonwoo doesn't understand. 'Crazy for you' it's called. By Mindy Kuah, Junhui said with a smile. 

"What's it about?" Wonwoo had asked. 

"Missing someone." Junhui cradles his face in his hands, dreamy look in his eye, "missing someone so much you go crazy." 

Wonwoo makes a noise from the back of his throat. "Typical."

"But relatable." Junhui eyes him, "don't you think?" 

"I wouldn't know." Wonwoo shrugs. 

Now he laughs. 

He laughs to himself so suddenly, Soonyoung turns around to look at him with concern. 

"You ok man?" 

"Yeah." Wonwoo laughs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 

* * *

 

 

Wonwoo kicks his blankets off and walks over to his desk. It’s still dark so he trips over the bath towel he had thrown on the floor. He bites back a curse before balancing himself.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when enough fuss gets made and enough hype is generated, a series once dead can spur back to life. It's not common, of course. There are things to consider like budget, writing, practicality. Work can bloom back into action after a long hiatus. It just needs a catalyst of some sort. 

A catalyst like the familiar strangeness in his chest at hearing the voice he's been avoiding for so long. Two years apart and there are only so many excuses you can come up with to not pick up someone's call. Only so many times you can blame it on your work and your phone's dead battery. There are only so many times Wonwoo can stand to hear the slight apprehension in Junhui's voice - the carefulness he's come to adopt around Wonwoo. The distance he unknowingly creates between them. 

As if being in completely different countries isn't enough distance. 

It's too much distance. 

Wonwoo runs his hands on his desk in search for his phone. Familiar weight in his hands, he clicks it open and squints at the light. 

He breathes. 

Inhale.

Exhale. 

And then he dials. 

Ringing –

Still ringing –

The line picks up.

“Hey, dance major.” Wonwoo says. 

A sleep-filled laugh crackles over the line. 

Wonwoo’s heart hammers in his chest.

Two years went by really slowly.

“Listen, my script is due on Friday.” His voice is steady. Awake. “After that, I was thinking I’d come see you for a bit.”

Silence.

“To China?” Wonwoo can hear the surprise in Junhui’s voice.

“Yeah.” Wonwoo confirms before adding. “If you want.”

A pause.

Wonwoo can hear Junhui shift in his bed. He wonders if he still has that cat plushie. Maybe he doesn’t. It’s been a while.

Things can change.

Not everything stays permanent like written words do. Not everything is planned. Things don’t happen in a straight line. Things aren’t episodic like they are in Wonwoo’s mind. Things move around him whilst he stays frighteningly still and so far Wonwoo has let them.

He lets them drift past while he waits for the perfect scenario.

_It's kind of sad. You kind of lock yourself down and limit the options when you fixate like that._

Junhui hasn’t said a thing.

Wonwoo feels his hands, already cold, turn clammy. 

He opens his mouth to say something but stops when Junhui laughs.

A light, carefree noise.

“Is this about episode three?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious about Wonwoo's script, you may read my shameless plug [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462355/chapters/38553131)
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Feedback is appreciated and savoured. 
> 
> Talk to me on [twt](https://twitter.com/spicychoi) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/citrusyghost) ꈍᴗꈍ


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